


There Was A Time When...

by MarzgaPerez



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Bipolar Disorder, Canon-typical language, Feels, Foreshadowing, Gallavich is back, M/M, My heart is heavy and light, POV Ian Gallagher, Prison, Protective Mickey Milkovich, S10E2 references, Sentimental, post S9E6
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-02-08 02:23:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21468511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarzgaPerez/pseuds/MarzgaPerez
Summary: A slice of Gallavich prison life from the early days after S9E6 with some nods to S10E2.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 2
Kudos: 114





	There Was A Time When...

Over the course of a few weeks, Ian had become familiar with the nighttime sounds of the prison. The inmate in the cell next to them, Enzo, snored like a hibernating grizzly bear, but at least his snoring had a consistent, almost soothing pattern. And there were always random outbursts from different inmates that echoed throughout the prison walls. Some were fighting nightmares, or general frustration with their cellmates, or the suffocating reality of a life in captivity. That shit could fuck with your mind like nothing else. 

Ian clutched his thin pillow as a feeling of gratitude pulsed through his fingers. It was fucking unreal—Mickey was here with him in his darkest time, had given up his freedom so they could be together. The Southside thug had always had his back, and ever since that day the love of his life had crossed the threshold into his assigned 6x8 cell, they'd been making up for lost time.

This was Ian’s first long-term stint in a prison, one with walls, anyway. He’d felt like a prisoner on more than one occasion in his life, too many, actually, but with Mickey by his side, this was completely doable. _ Wasn’t it? _They had three squares, rec time, weekend visitation, and Ian was working in the infirmary, which kept his mind occupied, and he could provide care and attention to the frequent fliers, especially the elderly inmates, who had it way worse than he did.

Most of the other inmates came across as intimidating to the generally mild-mannered redhead, who'd spent some recent time in "regular" jail, leveraging his fame as Gay Jesus and negotiating for fair treatment between prison husbands. His stint as an LGBTQ savior did him little good at Beckman, but he had gained some notoriety as "Mickey's bitch" since the brunet had made it pretty clear not to fuck with his boyfriend...or else. 

"This ain't _Shawshank Redepemtion_, motherfucker," Mickey once told another inmate who was sniffing around too close. "And he ain't no Tim fuckin' Robbins." 

Mickey would catch Ian sometimes with a worried grimace—usually when a fight broke out near them or during the frequent lockdowns—and tell him to relax, that he was owning this, making prison his bitch. Ian always chuckled at how his boyfriend was trying to toughen him up but knowing full well that some days felt like he was skating on thin ice. He knew he owed Mickey quite a lot, and it had been on his mind lately to tell him as much.

“Mick, you awake?” Ian whispered into the darkness. They weren’t usually all that quiet in their cell, but they had come to an agreement with their neighbors to keep it down after lights-out. 

There was a muffled reply from the bunk below. “Thought you’d be asleep by now.”

“Can’t. Thinking about shit.”

Ian could hear Mickey sigh lightly as he made room on his bunk. “C’mere.”

Ian wasted no time in swinging down and joining Mickey on the cramped lower bunk, spooning him and ghosting fingers tenderly over his bare arm, then dragging them over his meaty thigh through the skimpy prison-issued boxers.

“Damn, Gallagher. You wanna go again? Running low on lube. Gotta use it wisely.”

Ian groaned at the mention of the lube shortage. The new warden was being a dick about keeping the commissary stocked, and the redhead had tried, unsuccessfully, to get lube added to the supply list in the infirmary. He had every intention of doling it out to his fellow inmates. They were all going to have to get creative soon, and there was a rumor that some of the guys had been experimenting with mayonnaise as a lubricant, which was another reminder of how the needs of the inmates were of little or no concern to the higher-ups. 

“Nah, I’m good, Mick. At least until the morning,” Ian added with a sly grin. “Just wanted to be near you. Forgot to tell you ‘I love you.’”

Mickey responded by wriggling his body until he was pressed as close as humanly possible to Ian. “Pretty sure you said it like five times after we banged.” 

Ian felt a red hue pass over his cheeks—sometimes he could be a little too demonstrative.

“But one more time doesn’t hurt,” Mickey instantly reassured him. “Love you, too.”

Ian kissed the back of his boyfriend’s neck, feeling at peace again, those flitting worries about his meds not working, that his mania would overpower him—or worse, that he’d fall into a deep depression and drive a wedge between him and Mickey—fell by the wayside.

“Uh, Mick?”

“Yeah? What’s on your mind?”

“Everything okay with you? This working for you? You know...us?” Ian stumbled over his next words. “I mean, you’ve done this prison thing before, but uh, I don’t want to be a burden.”

Mickey shifted abruptly to face Ian, his eyes somehow a fiery blue, even in the darkness. “The fuck? What makes you think you’re a burden?”

“Dunno. Just don’t want you to worry. I’m not fragile like before.”

“I’m not worried,” Mickey huffed.

“And I don’t mean to stay on you all the time about keeping this shithole clean.”

“Oh. That. Well, yeah, you can be a naggy bitch sometimes, but you have a point. Don’t want to live in filth.”

Damn, his boyfriend didn’t mince words; Ian smiled at his bluntness. “Anyway, thanks, Mick. Really. For everything.” He noticed that the brunet's body had stilled, his breathing low and steady. It always amazed him how Mickey could fall asleep instantly, push all the shit of the day to the back of his mind. 

Ian hoped that the rest of their days could be like this, but he knew deep down that things could eventually unravel. Prison was like a pressure cooker, and they were in the beginning stage of a gradual simmer with an undetermined amount of time in front of them before everything went to shit. Mickey was just going to go with it, and Ian decided that he should too. 

There was a light at the end of this if they could survive these months and get out unscathed on the other side. It would take some patience and understanding—both things that each of them were capable of. They’d been tested enough times by now. 

Ian shifted his foot and knocked over the tower of Mickey’s toiletries he’d been collecting at the foot of the bed. “Shit,” he mumbled as Mickey stirred but didn’t wake up. 

_ Eh, I’ll just leave it until the morning,_ Ian decided. He drifted off to sleep with his last thought about how well Mickey thrived in chaos, yet at the same time, he brought order and stability to their world.

And Ian had every intention of doing the same.

**Author's Note:**

> I think most Gallavich fans know by now that there was a lot of bickering when we get to see the boys again in S10E2. I wanted to write about a more peaceful time and try to foreshadow some of what happened later. It can't be easy to live in those horrible conditions and try to make your relationship work, but I have faith. :)


End file.
